Ryan Reign (New York Ruthless #4)(29)

“How?” I stutter as I stare at the face that has haunted my dreams for ten long years.

He holds up the electronic keycard. “Shane gave me this.”

“He wouldn’t,” I stammer.

“No?” he smiles at me. It is cruel and twisted. It mocks me. He stalks toward me but I still stand frozen to the spot. My bladder suddenly feels like it’s about to burst and I close my eyes, willing my body not to betray me. “You have no idea who Shane Ryan is, Jessica,” he hisses as he steps closer. “He told you he wanted you to meet his Uncle Paul, didn’t he?”

My eyes snap open. “No.” I shake my head. “You’re not him.”

“Oh, I am, little bird,” he hisses as he finally reaches me. He towers over me. His beard is longer and bushier now, no doubt to hide the scars on his neck from when I almost killed him, but those cold, gray eyes are exactly as I remember. He runs a fingertip over my cheek and I shudder at his touch. I want to shrink back from him. I want to kick him in the balls and run, but I am frozen in fear.

“My nephews have been keeping you warm for me until it was safe for me to claim you again.”

I try to swallow but my throat is raw and tight. “No.” I shake my head again as tears start to run down my cheeks. This can’t be happening. This can’t be true. I must have fallen asleep on that huge king-size bed, the one that Shane and I made love on just a few hours ago. The one I was lying on when Mikey and Liam told me how much they loved me.

“Yes, little bird,” he croons as he leans closer to me. The smell of cigarettes clings to his clothes and a wave of nausea almost overwhelms me. “Shane handed me this key himself and told me you’d be ready for me. He’s a good boy, my nephew. All of them are.”

“You’re lying,” I hiss, finally able to move I take a step back from him. There’s a gun here somewhere. I have to find it. Where the hell did Shane put it?

“I would never lie to you, my love.”

At last, adrenaline finally kicks in and it surges through my veins. I lunge for him. “I am not your love!” I screech as I aim for his eyes. But he is still quick. He dodges out of my way and I scratch his neck instead.

“Still my feisty little bird,” he mocks me as he grabs hold of my hands and squeezes my wrists painfully. “I taught you so well.”

“I hate you,” I kick out at him but he steps back. He has a foot and one hundred pounds on me and experience reminds me I am no match for him. Perhaps if I had been prepared? Perhaps if I hadn’t been completely blindsided by his revelations.

“You and I have so much to catch up on,” he chuckles as he twists me around, holding both of my wrists in one hand now, until my back is pressed against his chest and his hot breath is at my ear. “So much.”

I wriggle as I feel him reaching into his pocket.

“You’re all mine now,” he whispers and that is the last thing I hear. I feel a sharp scratch on my neck, and then there is nothing.





Chapter 18





Jessie





I check all of my pockets for my keycard but it’s not in there. I’m sure I picked it up this morning. I knock on the door instead and wait for Jessie to answer. She doesn’t open and I knock louder before I shout.

“Jessie! It’s me.”

Still nothing. I take my cell out of my pocket. She must be in the shower. Before I can dial her number, one of the hotel maids steps out of the elevator. She smiles at me. “Good evening, Mr. Ryan.”

Everyone in this place seems to know my name. “Evening. Could you let me in here?” I nod toward the door. “I forgot my key.”

“Of course, Sir,” she says as she walks over and swipes her card.

“Thank you.” I smile at her and she giggles before I step inside the room.

“Jessie!” I shout again as I look around the suite and head to the bedroom. I walk inside and she’s not there either. The bathroom door is open and I don’t hear her in there, but I go in and check anyway. Where the fuck is she? My heart starts to race a little but I tell myself that there’s a reasonable explanation. She has gone to the spa downstairs. To the pool, like she said she would. Or maybe to the restaurant or the store.

My cell is still in my hand so I dial her number. A second later, her current ringtone, Like I Can, plays loudly in the bathroom and my racing pulse starts to thunder. She would never have gone out without her cell.

I run back into the bathroom and see her phone sitting there, flashing and vibrating while Sam Smith sings at the top of his voice. I end the call and put my cell back into my pocket before picking hers up. She has a missed call from me and one from Conor half an hour ago. I grip it tightly in my hand and walk back out into the suite.

“Jessie!” I shout louder now. I mean, she’s so small she could have fallen asleep under a table or something, right?

“Jessie. Where the fuck are you, sweetheart?” I shout again as I search every inch of the room even though I already know she’s not here. So many emotions flood my senses that I don’t know which one to deal with. Suddenly, I am reminded of that day in New York when we came home to find she’d gone, leaving only a brief note to explain her absence.

I scan the room again, ashamed for even thinking it, but there is no note. My heart sinks as I realize that’s worse. Because if she didn’t leave of her own accord, then someone fucking took her.